道林格雷的画像_奥斯卡·王尔德-第5部分

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lord　henry　took　up　his　hat　and　gloves。　〃you　are　very　pressing；　basil；　but　i　am　afraid　i　must　go。　i　have　promised　to　meet　a　man　at　the　orleans。　good…bye；　mr。　gray。　e　and　see　me　some　afternoon　in　curzon　street。　i　am　nearly　always　at　home　at　five　oclock。　write　to　me　when　you　are　ing。　i　should　be　sorry　to　miss　you。〃

〃basil；〃　cried　dorian　gray；　〃if　lord　henry　wotton　goes；　i　shall　go；　too。　you　never　open　your　lips　while　you　are　painting；　and　it　is　horribly　dull　standing　on　a　platform　and　trying　to　look　pleasant。　ask　him　to　stay。　i　insist　upon　it。〃

〃stay；　harry；　to　oblige　dorian；　and　to　oblige　me；〃　said　hallward；　gazing　intently　at　his　picture。　〃it　is　quite　true；　i　never　talk　when　i　am　working；　and　never　listen　either；　and　it　must　be　dreadfully　tedious　for　my　unfortunate　sitters。　i　beg　you　to　stay。〃

〃but　what　about　my　man　at　the　orleans？〃

the　painter　laughed。　〃i　dont　think　there　will　be　any　difficulty　about　that。　sit　down　again；　harry。　and　now；　dorian；　get　up　on　the　platform；　and　dont　move　about　too　much；　or　pay　any　attention　to　what　lord　henry　says。　he　has　a　very　bad　influence　over　all　his　friends；　with　the　single　exception　of　myself。〃

dorian　gray　stepped　up　on　the　dais　with　the　air　of　a　young　greek　martyr；　and　made　a　little　moue　of　discontent　to　lord　henry；　to　whom　he　had　rather　taken　a　fancy。　he　was　so　unlike　basil。　they　made　a　delightful　contrast。　and　he　had　such　a　beautiful　voice。　after　a　few　moments　he　said　to　him；　〃have　you　really　a　very　bad　influence；　lord　henry？　as　bad　as　basil　says？〃

〃there　is　no　such　thing　as　a　good　influence；　mr。　gray。　all　influence　is　immoralimmoral　from　the　scientific　point　of　view。〃

〃why？〃

〃because　to　influence　a　person　is　to　give　him　ones　own　soul。　he　does　not　think　his　natural　thoughts；　or　burn　with　his　natural　passions。　his　virtues　are　not　real　to　him。　his　sins；　if　there　are　such　things　as　sins；　are　borrowed。　he　bees　an　echo　of　some　one　elses　music；　an　actor　of　a　part　that　has　not　been　written　for　him。　the　aim　of　life　is　self…development。　to　realize　ones　nature　perfectlythat　is　what　each　of　us　is　here　for。　people　are　afraid　of　themselves；　nowadays。　they　have　forgotten　the　highest　of　all　duties；　the　duty　that　one　owes　to　ones　self。　of　course；　they　are　charitable。　they　feed　the　hungry　and　clothe　the　beggar。　but　their　own　souls　starve；　and　are　naked。　courage　has　gone　out　of　our　race。　perhaps　we　never　really　had　it。　the　terror　of　society；　which　is　the　basis　of　morals；　the　terror　of　god；　which　is　the　secret　of　religionthese　are　the　two　things　that　govern　us。　and　yet〃

〃just　turn　your　head　a　little　more　to　the　right；　dorian；　like　a　good　boy；〃　said　the　painter；　deep　in　his　work　and　conscious　only　that　a　look　had　e　into　the　lads　face　that　he　had　never　seen　there　before。

〃and　yet；〃　continued　lord　henry；　in　his　low；　musical　voice；　and　with　that　graceful　wave　of　the　hand　that　was　always　so　characteristic　of　him；　and　that　he　had　even　in　his　eton　days；　〃i　believe　that　if　one　man　were　to　live　out　his　life　fully　and　pletely；　were　to　give　form　to　every　feeling；　expression　to　every　thought；　reality　to　every　dreami　believe　that　the　world　would　gain　such　a　fresh　impulse　of　joy　that　we　would　forget　all　the　maladies　of　mediaevalism；　and　return　to　the　hellenic　ideal　to　something　finer；　richer　than　the　hellenic　ideal；　it　may　be。　but　the　bravest　man　amongst　us　is　afraid　of　himself。　the　mutilation　of　the　savage　has　its　tragic　survival　in　the　self…denial　that　mars　our　lives。　we　are　punished　for　our　refusals。　every　impulse　that　we　strive　to　strangle　broods　in　the　mind　and　poisons　us。　the　body　sins　once；　and　has　done　with　its　sin；　for　action　is　a　mode　of　purification。　nothing　remains　then　but　the　recollection　of　a　pleasure；　or　the　luxury　of　a　regret。　the　only　way　to　get　rid　of　a　temptation　is　to　yield　to　it。　resist　it；　and　your　soul　grows　sick　with　longing　for　the　things　it　has　forbidden　to　itself；　with　desire　for　what　its　monstrous　laws　have　made　monstrous　and　unlawful。　it　has　been　said　that　the　great　events　of　the　world　take　place　in　the　brain。　it　is　in　the　brain；　and　the　brain　only；　that　the　great　sins　of　the　world　take　place　also。　you；　mr。　gray；　you　yourself；　with　your　rose…red　youth　and　your　rose…white　boyhood；　you　have　had　passions　that　have　made　you　afraid；　thoughts　that　have　fined　you　with　terror；　day…dreams　and　sleeping　dreams　whose　mere　memory　might　stain　your　cheek　with　shame〃

〃stop！〃　faltered　dorian　gray；　〃stop！　you　bewilder　me。　i　dont　know　what　to　say。　there　is　some　answer　to　you；　but　i　cannot　find　it。　dont　speak。　let　me　think。　or；　rather；　let　me　try　not　to　think。〃

for　nearly　ten　minutes　he　stood　there；　motionless；　with　parted　lips　and　eyes　strangely　bright。　he　was　dimly　conscious　that　entirely　fresh　influences　were　at　work　within　him。　yet　they　seemed　to　him　to　have　e　really　from　himself。　the　few　words　that　basils　friend　had　said　to　himwords　spoken　by　chance；　no　doubt；　and　with　wilful　paradox　in　them　had　touched　some　secret　chord　that　had　never　been　touched　before；　but　that　he　felt　was　now　vibrating　and　throbbing　to　curious　pulses。

music　had　stirred　him　like　that。　music　had　troubled　him　many　times。　but　music　was　not　articulate。　it　was　not　a　new　world；　but　rather　another　chaos；　that　it　created　in　us。　words！　mere　words！　how　terrible　they　were！　how　clear；　and　vivid；　and　cruel！　one　could　not　escape　from　them。　and　yet　what　a　subtle　magic　there　was　in　them！　they　seemed　to　be　able　to　give　a　plastic　form　to　formless　things；　and　to　have　a　music　of　their　own　as　sweet　as　that　of　viol　or　of　lute。　mere　words！　was　there　anything　so　real　as　words？

yes；　there　had　been　things　in　his　boyhood　that　he　had　not　understood。　he　understood　them　now。　life　suddenly　became　fiery…coloured　to　him。　it　seemed　to　him　that　he　had　been　walking　in　fire。　why　had　he　not　known　it？

with　his　subtle　smile；　lord　henry　watched　him。　he　knew　the　precise　psychological　moment　when　to　say　nothing。　he　felt　intensely　interested。　he　was　amazed　at　the　sudden　impression　that　his　words　had　produced；　and；　remembering　a　book　that　he　had　read　when　he　was　sixteen；　a　book　which　had　revealed　to　him　much　that　he　had　not　known　before；　he　wondered　whether　dorian　gray　was　passing　through　a　similar　experience。　he　had　merely　shot　an　arrow　into　the　air。　had　it　hit　the　mark？　how　fascinating　the　lad　was！

hallward　painted　away　with　that　marvellous　bold　touch　of　his；　that　had　the　true　refinement　and　perfect　delicacy　that　in　art；　at　any　rate　es　only　from　strength。　he　was　unconscious　of　the　silence。

〃basil；　i　am　tired　of　standing；〃　cried　dorian　gray　suddenly。　〃i　must　go　out　and　sit　in　the　garden。　the　air　is　stifling　here。〃

〃my　dear　fellow；　i　am　so　sorry。　when　i　am　painting；　i　cant　think　of　anything　else。　but　you　never　sat　better。　you　were　perfectly　still。　and　i　have　caught　the　effect　i　wanted　the　half…parted　lips　and　the　bright　look　in　the　eyes。　i　dont　know　what　harry　has　been　saying　to　you；　but　he　has　certainly　made　you　have　the　most　wonderful　expression。　i　suppose　he　has　been　paying　you　pliments。　you　mustnt　believe　a　word　that　he　says。〃

〃he　has　certainly　not　been　paying　me　pliments。　perhaps　that　is　the　reason　that　i　dont　believe　anything　he　has　told　me。〃

〃you　know　you　believe　it　all；〃　said　lord　henry；　looking　at　him　with　his　dreamy　languorous　eyes。　〃i　will　go　out　to　the　garden　with　you。　it　is　horribly　hot　in　the　studio。　basil；　let　us　have　something　iced　to　drink；　something　with　strawberries　in　it。〃

〃certainly；　harry。　just　touch　the　bell；　and　when　parker　es　i　will　tell　him　what　you　want。　i　have　got　to　work　up　this　background；　so　i　will　join　you　later　on。　dont　keep　dorian　too　long。　i　have　never　been　in　better　form　for　painting　than　i　am　to…day。　this　is　going　to　be　my　masterpiece。　it　is　my　masterpiece　as　it　stands。〃

lord　henry　went　out　to　the　garden　and　found　dorian　gray　burying　his　face　in　the　great　cool　lilac…blossoms；　feverishly　drinking　in　their　perfume　as　if　it　had　been　wine。　he　came　close　to　him　and　put　his　hand　upon　his　shoulder。　〃you　are　quite　right　to　do　that；〃　he　murmured。　〃nothing　can　cure　the　soul　but　the　senses；　just　as　nothing　can　cure　the　senses　but　the　soul。〃

the　lad　started　and　drew　back。　he　was　bareheaded；　and　the　leaves　had　tossed　his　rebellious　curls　and　tangled　all　their　gilded　threads。　there　was　a　look　of